


No Tentacles Allowed in the Carter House

by Liliriu



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Comedy, Established Relationship, Flirting, Horror, M/M, Psychedelic, Romance, lovecraftian universe explotation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliriu/pseuds/Liliriu
Summary: Intended as sequel to boredom by lady_gt.Randolph and Harley are thinking about ways to "fix" a party at the Carters. Aid comes from an unexpected source.Warning: mentions of sex.
Relationships: Randolph Carter/Harley Warren, Randolph Carter/Nyarlathotep
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	No Tentacles Allowed in the Carter House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_gt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_gt/gifts).
  * Inspired by [boredom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26870251) by [lady_gt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_gt/pseuds/lady_gt). 



> Hope you like this weird thing^^;;

“So… when are the ghouls arriving, anyway?” asked Harley.

He and Randolph were burnt out of amusing themselves, during the boring party at the Carters, by performing in-depth research of each other’s body. After a few hours, they had arrived to the conclusion that every possibility of love making allowed by Euclidean geometry had already been exhausted. This, they thought, was more than enough sex for the following month; or well, at least for the following night or two. But _this_ night was still young. So they were sat on a piece of the floor which they had appropriated to themselves, and to a growing collection of empty bottles, thinking about new ways to pass the time. At some point, Randolph had mumbled that they needed “something to help them focus”, disappeared, and reappeared with a cigarette, whose content seemed to be something more than tobacco, and just a little bit too dry.

“And that would be Randolph Carter’s shortcut to Kadath…” had said Harley with a grin.

“Shut up, or you are not getting any,” had answered Randolph, and Harley had shut up.

Afterwards, if not precisely more focused, the exchange of ideas was at least done among a pleasant haze.

“Haven’t I told you?” asked Randolph, “the ghouls are not coming, they said that they are _remodeling the crypts_ ,” he added a sarcastic emphasis to the last three words.

“Sure they are.”

“I think they are afraid of my mom...” he whispered to Harley’s ear.

“Randolph… stop being such a misogynist.”

“...I’ll try.”

“You do that. Anyway, that is the ghouls’ loss, they are the ones who are missing the orgy.”

Randolph frowned, “what orgy?”

“You wanted me to think about a way to fix this party, sorry for trying to be helpful…”

“Can’t you think about a way that won’t get me disowned in the process?”

“Randolph, love, you’ve already got disowned at least four times since the beginning of the evening.”

“Oh...”

“Oh,” agreed Harley.

Randolph examined the crowd with critical aesthete’s eyes. “I am not fucking anyone here,” he sentenced.

“Nobody said you have to, we can invite some other people, if the ghouls are not coming.”

“Who?”

“Well, for starters, we will obviously need someone with tentacles.”

“For the millionth time, Harley, no tentacles allowed in the Carter house.”

“Right, I forgot. Mm… there is this adorable geek boy, how was he called?”

“And by ‘adorable geek boy’ you would mean Herbert? I don’t like him.”

“I never understood what do you have against him, he is a great guy; cute face, bright mind, perky butt… What’s not to like?”

“I’m telling you Harley, I have a bad feeling about him. Something is very, very wrong with this lad.”

“Whatever? But fine, not Herbert then. We could bring Asenath, for more, you know, exotic experiences.”

“Say again? I need to record you for future blackmail – ahem, reference.”

Harley punched him. “OK, so not Asenath, also… What about this friend of yours, Kuranes? Does he meet your standards?”

“Pfff… I can’t stand him. Used to be chill… but these days, all he does is whine about this and that, he’s become insufferable.”

“Fine, fine. So there’s the guys from New Orleans, Howard and Louis. You can’t say those two don’t know how to party.”

“Mmm… I heard they kind of dropped out of sight, lately. Apparently they were with this yummy goth kid, last time anyone saw them.”

“That’s odd. Disappeared, just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Shame, would like to know more about the goth kid. I do love pale beauties…” he stared longingly at a piece of Randolph’s snowy chest, exposed by the not fully buttoned shirt. “What about Lavinia?”

Randolph smirked, “you certainly have a good concept of yourself, if you think that you can do something for this pale beauty.”

Harley was starting to lose his patience, shortcut to Kadath or not. “Randolph Carter, don’t you think that you are being a bit too negative today? I know that you’re not very social, but do you have to find a fault in every single one of our friends?”

“Just trying to be realistic.”

“Realistic? That’s rich, coming from you. But well, maybe you should try to come up with some _realistic_ idea yourself?”

In _reality_ , Randolph did not care anymore. His own body and Harley’s had inadvertently got closer and closer, and it was warm; while everything further away just seemed kind of blurry, which, for him, was perfectly fine. “There’s always the zoogs?” he proposed.

“Fuck the zoogs!”

“Who is being not very social now?”

Harley started to roll his eyes –

“Hey Harley, look!” Randolph pointed at figure that was mingling with the guests, and seemed out of place for some reason. He did not recall having seen this person at the party before.

“Who is that?” asked Harley.

“I don’t know, but he does seem... kind of familiar...”

The figure seemed familiar indeed, but Randolph found himself unable to specify the source of this familiarity. This was a tall man, just a little bit taller than everyone else in the room, and, somehow… brighter…? But with a brightness that had nothing to do with his coloration, which was pleasantly dark. His elegant attire suggested the form of a slender, whip-like body. His features, or as much of them as could be seen behind the velvet mask, were graceful in a noble yet functional way, as a desertic land’s monarch or deity. Suddenly, he seemed to direct his gaze towards Randolph, who recognized a sheen of invitation in those misty eyes.

Misty eyes.

Randolph was floating among mist, high above the mountains and the sand. He could almost visualize himself, in a gigantic scale, vaguely illuminated by soft sunlight particles; merging with the creature (creature?) which was very lovely indeed, all regal angles and svelte, golden limbs. They were as the sunlight, two purely ethereal essences, each melting inside the other…

“Randolph, Randolph!” Harley was shaking him. Randolph turned his gaze towards his friend’s loving, worried face; and then towards the room, which was now very cold and well defined. But the colors were wrong; or rather, instead of being colors, they seemed more like vibrations.

The creature was screening some movie on the big screen (how did it get permission to use it…? Since when did they have a big screen?) And everyone else was standing still, staring hypnotized, emanating terrified craze.

“Randolph! Something’s wrong, we must leave, quickly!” whisper-yelled Harley, and offered Randolph his hand.

Randolph took it. It was strong, solid and comforting. Hand by hand, they slowly moved around the zombified guests, trying their best to go unnoticed. As they reached the exit, Randolph turned his head one last time to see the creature’s eyes on him, their expression uninterpretable. But it did not move.

“Run!” ordered Harley as they got out, and so they did, Harley’s strong hand still firmly holding Randolph’s. They ran among dark streets illuminated solely by a greenish, insane moon; among misplaced grass; among windowless, decayed buildings and neglected tram-cars. They ran among sickening shadows over the cruel, hellish snow. They ran among the graveyard of a lightless city, among long forgotten skeletons of society; and Harley’s hand was warm against the howling, frozen wind.

They ran.

**Author's Note:**

> And... I guess I need to give some more credits for this:
> 
> (Main) Lovecraft stories referenced here:  
> The Statement of Randolph Carter  
> The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath  
> Herbert West–Reanimator  
> The Thing on the Doorstep  
> Celephaïs  
> The Horror of Dunwich  
> From Beyond  
> Nyarlathotep (the second part of the story is Nyarlathotep+romantic twist).
> 
> Other references: His Mouth Will Taste of Wormwood - short story by Poppy Z. Brite (a homage to Lovecraft's The Hound. If you haven't read, go read now. And go read everything by Brite).  
> Skeletons of Society - song by Slayer
> 
>   
> Also, a couple of reflections:  
> I finally realized that I read Nyarla's attitude towards Randolph as an Other Gods' version of flirting.  
> I looove stoner Randolph, expect more of that.


End file.
